


Making a Spectacle

by dirtcup



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Character Study, Other, i guess?, no idea where this fits in the actual timeline, not romantic - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-27 23:37:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14436624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirtcup/pseuds/dirtcup
Summary: They needed this evening just to unwind. They couldn’t be all dastardly work all the time. They were creatures born of profound decadence, after all.





	Making a Spectacle

**Author's Note:**

> I mostly just wanted to write about Lust and Envy being terrible together. This will be 3 or 4 chapters. Next chapters will be much longer.

You know, it was incredible that they had at least always been _consistently_ on the edge. Over nearly two centuries, through all their fingers clawing through their fake stringy hair and their mouth running on fumes, they’d never actually tipped. They were always, always, right on the edge. 

Envy’s feet were cold on the dirty concrete. The sound of the dirt scraping underneath their toes managed to fill the massive, dark, room. They moved unnaturally as they tried to get a good look at themselves from every possible angle in the full length mirror. 

Their routine, any time they had to go out, as feverish as it was, had never gotten worse. It never got better, of course, as it never ever could, but at least it never got worse. And they applauded themselves for it. Really, no one else could say that. No one else could, right? 

As they stood in front of a mirror with only two cracks in it, they did the same thing they’d always done. They fixed up their nose, and their jaw line, and their eyeliner, and their skin, and their legs, and their belly, and their arms, and anything that might be a little tiny bit off. 

Just in case. Because when they looked into their own eyes and at their pale skin that they’d so carefully decided upon, they didn’t want those stupid little whispers to bubble up from their stomach. They wanted to swallow every fleeting thought about how, no matter how much they changed, they still somehow looked like a slimy, hideous, little leech. 

Was the left side of their jaw just a little too high? Was that it? It had to be perfect. But not too perfect. It was kind of cute, they thought, to have a slight gap in their front teeth, and to look like, messy on purpose. Like, they just threw this together. 

They didn’t spend hours and hours in the mirror making sure their entire flesh bag was absolutely the most enviable thing anyone had ever seen. They just like, did this one time and thought, “Oh that’ll work”. They don’t try that hard. They’re just perfect like this. On accident. Because they’re just perfect. 

Naturally. 

Their long green hair would feel like silk if anyone actually bothered to touch it. Their legs were sculpted so precisely it would be a complete waste to cover them up further. The same with their stomach. Their outfit could maybe use a slight revision down the road, but right now it was perfect. They looked perfect. 

But their knuckles could use some work. 

They saw a human the other day that had really nice hands, someone at a shop. She’d had better hands than they did. Which was absolutely rude and the only solution was to improve their own hands. Make the fingers and knuckles and the wrist bone just perfect, perfect, perfect. 

“Are you still mad about that girl’s hands?” Lust’s voice echoed through the underground. 

She lay right next to them, on the old and rotting couch. A book was in her hands and she didn’t even look at them. Her foot was draped onto the floor on what was probably once a beautiful, ornate rug. 

Greed had left it here when he’d disappeared. 

Lust was the only one allowed to see them like this. Because they wanted her to know how much effort they put in. Because they wanted her to know that they were really good at what they do. That even though Lust was, well, Lust, Envy was better at looking good than she was, than she’d ever be. 

“I was never mad,” Envy insisted. “I’m not mad.” 

Lust went back to her book. She didn’t respond.

“I’m not mad!” Envy repeated. 

They put their, now much better, hands on their hips. They posed their newly perfected fingers over their skin so that it looked better than natural. 

They stood over Lust’s uninterested form on the couch. 

Lust looked them in the eye for only a second before glancing at their hands. 

“They look nice. Good job,” she said, lazily. Then she went back to her book. 

Envy glared down at her. Their nostril twitched. 

“Thank you,” they said, smiling down at her. They elegantly brushed their fingers along their jaw line. 

They didn’t move from where they stood. 

“Oh, are you finally ready to go out?” Lust asked.

“Yes.” 

Lust picked up her new black mink coat from the end of the couch that had been waiting so patiently for Envy to finish. She tossed it over her shoulders, covering her black high-necked catsuit. She held a stupid little clutch purse in one gloved hand. She’d stolen new riding gloves too. 

Envy swallowed.

“Wait, no, I’m not ready yet.”

God, fuck, what was better than a long, black, mink coat? How were they supposed to compete with that? 

Lust flopped back down on the couch with a huge sigh, and she even looked atrociously effortlessly perfect when she did _that_ , the absolute fucking-

Envy had to leave the room for this one. They retreated into the hall. 

They could wear literally anything. Anything at all. Lust had to go through the effort of actually locating clothes, but they could have absolutely anything they could imagine, as long as they knew what it looked like. It was therefore an embarrassment for them to not have the best outfit in the room. They had absolutely no excuse. 

They leaned against the cold wall.

God dammit, what was better than a long black mink coat?!

“Envy, do you want a book for some inspiration? The humans make books about what what they consider correctly fashionable,” Lust called from the couch.

Envy’s blood boiled at the suggestion that they might need help for just a moment but, in a miraculous feat of self control, decided the book would probably give them some better ideas, and that way they’d know that what they had on was certainly the most favorable. And also what was better than Lust’s coat. 

They reluctantly walked back into the large concrete room and took Lust’s book. 

Envy sat themselves down on the carpet. They flipped through a few of the pages and looked at the engraved prints of all the different ways of dressing listed in the catalogue. It was a catalogue, they realized. There were prices and order forms in the back. One was missing.

“Lust,” they asked. “Lust, did you, actually purchase, that coat?”

Lust shrugged and kicked her heels up on the arm of the couch. 

Envy shook their head mockingly. “Lust, Lust, you’re losing it, Lust,” they said.

“And the club’s going to close before we even leave the underground at this rate,” Lust said smoothly. “Hell, it might even go out of business.” 

Envy glared at her a second before burying their nose deeper in the catalogue. 

“Start with some shoes, we’re going to a human social establishment and they’ll kick you out again if you try to go in like that.” 

They hated having to cover up the body they’d worked so hard to perfect, but she was right. They needed to blend in. It wasn’t for a mission, so Envy had had their mind set on getting to indulge themselves in their preferred form without the threat of a fight, but compromises would have to be made to meet absurd human social norms. 

They needed this evening just to unwind. They couldn’t be all dastardly work all the time. They were creatures born of profound decadence, after all. 

Envy hummed and flipped through pages and pages and eventually settled on something acceptable.

Dress shoes with a slight heel, long black pants, those were first. They supposed they could live with a black dress shirt, and a long green velvet riding coat, which was the only thing they could think of to rival Lust’s mink. Their dark hair was tied up and pushed back with lace. 

“Is that what you’re going with?” 

Insecurity panged in their stomach. 

“It looks good,” Lust added, hurriedly. “You look very nice.” 

Lust stood up and began making her way toward the doorway. Envy stared at themself in the mirror for just a bit longer, making sure, making sure the velvet looked expensive enough and the buttons on the coat were all-

The weight of Lust’s hands were suddenly on their shoulders. She stood behind them in the mirror. 

“It’s good to see your real face, too,” she added. 

Their insides squirmed. 

_Their real face..._

Envy clawed their fingers through their hair, making sure they’d made it smooth enough. 

Was this their real face? Did Lust consider this their real face? They’d been using it for almost half a century now...

They jammed their hands in their pockets and frowned indifferently. 

“Okay,” they said, pointing their face away from the mirror. “Let’s quit standing around and go then.”


End file.
